


Prequel to Apodyopis

by OtterMcKilbourne (p_3a)



Series: NaNoWriMo 2014 [21]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:23:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/OtterMcKilbourne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon asked: So in the fic Apodyopis you mentioned a thing about Wrathion "being privy to enough midnight breakdowns to know that" Anduin sees himself as lesser because of how he looks. Could you please elaborate on what happens to Anduin during those episodes and how Wrathion helps/deals with them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prequel to Apodyopis

Usually, Anduin came down for tea at around this time of night. Wrathion supposed he may be in too much pain to do so and so - not being busy, wanting to be social - he decided to bring the tea up to Anduin.

He knew something was a little different when Anduin didn't answer the knock on his door. Not even with a groan, or a strained greeting.

He pushed inside anyway, fearing that Anduin had been badly hurt by an assassin or the like, only to find that he was sat on the edge of the bed - fists curled up in his lap, his bad leg exposed. The scarred skin twisted around Anduin's leg in beautiful patterns, deep gullies and channels reminding Wrathion of the maps he'd seen of the rivers in the forest of Anduin's home. But from the way water was running down Anduin's cheeks, it seemed the Prince didn't agree.

"I brought you tea," Wrathion announced.  
Anduin sniffed. "Put it over there."

Wrathion did as he was asked, but hovered by the table, not wanting to leave the Prince weeping. "Is there anything else I might do for you..?"  
"No," Anduin said, biting his lip as soon as he'd finished the word and pausing, obviously trying not to cry more outwardly. "You can go now. Thank you."  
"I can go, or you'd like me to?" Wrathion asked, quietly.  
"... you can," Anduin said, hiccoughing and wiping his face with his sleeve.  
"Then I may stay, if I'd like?"  
Anduin nodded silently.

Wrathion moved over to sit on the bed, next to Anduin. "What's the matter, my Prince?"  
"Don't you see it?!" Suddenly Anduin lashed out, punching at his bad leg. Wrathion flinched, if only because it was so unexpected - and Anduin started crying more, at least partly, Wrathion had no doubt, from the pain. "How can anyone ever respect me when I look like THIS!? I look like-- like an aberration, Wrathion! I look horrible! How can anyone ever think I'm--  _strong_ , or want to-- want to love me, or h-have children with me like I'm meant to?!"

Sobs shook his shoulders, and without thinking, Wrathion wrapped an arm around them. He didn't hold Anduin's hand, or stop him from punching his leg again - he'd been in that particular place, and he knew how it was to feel as though the only recourse for expressing yourself, no matter how destructive it looked to outsiders, had been taken away from you. He knew it was more destructive to keep those feelings inside. So he let Anduin add to the bruise over his scars, and simply hugged him meanwhile.

After a short while, Anduin turned into the hug, though. Wrathion stroked his hair, gently, and murmured into his ear. "Do you know, Anduin Wrynn. I certainly don't think those scars make you weak. I understand it's difficult for you to know that, though." He rubbed Anduin's back, as he remembered all the times Right reassured him he wasn't a monster, and the way his belief in that persisted. "But I will tell you this, as many times as you need to hear it."  
"Why-- why are you being so gentle with me?" Anduin sniffed, wrapping his arms around Wrathion's chest. "I don't deserve it."  
"I respectfully disagree." Wrathion rest his chin on Anduin's shoulder, gently, and adjusted his hug. "After all, it's my decision, isn't it, on how to treat you? And your own decision on how to treat yourself."  
"I-I guess..." Anduin took a shaky breath in. "You really don't think I look awful..?"  
"No, I don't. In Stromgarde, we're taught all scars teach you a lesson. And the more lessons you've learned, the smarter you are, indeed."  
Anduin laughed, shakily, though it seemed forced somehow. "We're-- we're kind of taught that in Stormwind too... except, um-- it doesn't apply to Princes. We're meant to be smart enough not to get scars in the first place."  
"I think you were very smart to confront Garrosh, Anduin Wrynn. Well-- perhaps 'smart' isn't the best word. But strong? Certainly. Brave, and mature. Certainly not bad qualities to have."

Anduin seemed to be calming down, so Wrathion gently let go of him to fetch the tea. Anduin sipped it shakily, then offered Wrathion a smile. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this."  
"You needn't be," Wrathion smiled back, more genuinely. "Don't tell anybody, but I'm sure you'll see me in a similarly prone state, at some point, after all."  
"You-- feel this way too, sometimes?"  
Wrathion nodded. "I'm not overly fond of admitting it."  
"I guessed." Anduin scratched his cheek faintly. "It's not... very nice. So it's understandable."

They drank tea quietly, together, and Wrathion thought about what things he could possibly say to Anduin to make him understand the full extent to which that he most certainly did not think Anduin's scars made him unattractive.


End file.
